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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372350">you found your home in me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaidebabe/pseuds/adelaidebabe'>adelaidebabe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, References to Sex, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, discussion of having children, references to mental illness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:00:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaidebabe/pseuds/adelaidebabe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kids were never something Stiles thought he’d want.”</p><p>or: Stiles maybe, kinda-sorta might want kids after thinking he didn’t for so long. He still has some hang-ups, though.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you found your home in me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085629">maybe this is where we belong</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaidebabe/pseuds/adelaidebabe">adelaidebabe</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>wowwwwww. okay. for a while, i've known that i've wanted to write more with future sciles and i'm kind of surprised that i've done it. briefly mentioned is my personal headcanon that stiles has bpd</p><p>this is in the same universe/timeline as my previous fic that's listed as inspiration; this is a prequel</p><p>i also want to make it clear: not everyone does decide to have children. there is nothing wrong with that. i don't want this fic to come off like i think everyone will change their minds as they get older; i know that's not true. and on that note, i hope you enjoy some (unbeta'd) domestic sciles talking about having kids&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kids were never something Stiles thought he’d want.</p><p>He used to tell himself that it was just because he didn’t want them. They were messy and loud, and required so much effort and support, and Stiles never thought he’d have that in him. Never thought he’d have the patience. Then there’s the obvious argument of his own issues; how could he subject some poor kids to that fate?</p><p>Which he guesses is actually closer to the real reason. That he’s scared. Scared of taking care of someone other than himself—because he does such a bang up job of that—scared of fucking up the life of a tiny, little defenseless human. Without meaning to. There’s plenty of ways he could mess up just by accident. The thought is terrifying.</p><p>He could just be a bad parent or he could die or there could be a divorce, or or or.</p><p>Scott squeezes Stiles’s hand.</p><p>Well, okay. So the divorce option is not a real option.</p><p>Stiles squeezes back. Scott doesn’t say anything, and neither does Stiles, just letting the sound from the movie filter back into his ears. Scott must’ve noticed somehow that Stiles had started zoning out, not focusing on the movie. Maybe Stiles tensed up or his heart began to beat faster, thinking about kids. Kids with Scott. Kids he kind of wants now.</p><p>He’s known that Scott has always wanted kids. He’s wanted them since <em>they</em> were kids, for crying out loud. And Scott has always known that Stiles didn’t want kids; how could he not with the million faces Stiles would make in highschool whenever Scott would talk about it?</p><p>Scott wants kids and Stiles, until, well, recently, doesn’t. But the thought of denying Scott something he wants, so deeply, doesn’t sit right with Stiles. He knows Scott would never push it, would never ask that of him; it’s probably why they’ve never talked about it. Scott just assuming they didn’t have to. But.</p><p>But.</p><p>The thought, the knowledge, that Scott would be his partner through it? Knowing that Scott would be an amazing father, knowing that Scott would help with Stiles’s shortcomings; he wants it. Just a little.</p><p>Maybe more than a little.</p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>The credits are playing and Scott is looking at him, something like concern in his eyes.</p><p>Their hands are still intertwined, so Stiles gives Scott’s another squeeze. “Sorry, dude, guess I didn’t have the brain capacity for a movie,” he says, ignoring Scott’s eye roll at the mention of ‘dude.’ He does quirk half a smile, though, when he does it, which is always a win. Stiles surprises himself by yawning and then tries to stretch with Scott’s hand still in his. “I’m such an old man, now, Scott,” he complains.</p><p>“You’re barely twenty-seven.”</p><p>“Yeah, and it’s not even eleven yet. And I’m tired and achy and I’m not as quick with the quips anymore. I mean, how am I supposed to keep up with our kids?”</p><p>Scott’s silence is so damn loud. Stiles has to replay what he thought he heard himself say at least three times before, yeah, he definitely did say that. Out loud. He could be better than that with the whole brain-to-mouth filter, but he supposes being so old and so tired means some things fall through the cracks.</p><p>That’s what he gets for thinking about it while he’s supposed to be watching a movie with his husband. It’s not that he thinks Scott will be against it—them, against children—but it was the way he brought it up. He meant to do it some other way. Don’t ask him what way; just some other way. Maybe after really hot sex, or even their really sweet and in-love sex, or during a normal dinner. Just some other time. Not a blasé comment that makes it sound like Stiles isn’t thinking about it seriously.</p><p>Because he is.</p><p>Scott clears his throat. “Our kids?” His voice is unreadable. Stiles can’t tell what he’s thinking, if he thinks Stiles is just joking around and is almost worried to get his hopes up.</p><p>Stiles chews the inside of his cheek a little. Dumb nervous habit; Scott won’t kiss him if he makes himself bleed again. He pulls his hand from Scott’s so he can sit up better, turning to face Scott more on the couch. He also clears his throat. “So,” Stiles draws out. “I was going to bring it up better than that.”</p><p>“You want kids?”</p><p>His voice is still so damn unreadable. For a fleeting second, Stiles wishes that he was the werewolf because then maybe he’d get a better read on Scott right now.</p><p>“I’ve been thinking about it,” Stiles admits. “I mean, I know I was always vehemently against kids before but.” He’s avoiding Scott’s eyes at this point.</p><p>Scott grabs his hand back and actually kisses it, right on his knuckles. “But what?” he asks.</p><p>Stiles scoffs, still avoiding actually looking at Scott. “You can’t make me talk about my feelings, dude, you know I can’t do that.”</p><p>Scott sighs, but he doesn’t sound mad or upset. Stiles sneaks a glance; his husband has a small smile on his lips. Scott gives his hand a squeeze. “I should’ve had you put, ‘I will not call my husband ‘dude,’’ in your wedding vows.”</p><p>“Dude, you know it’s how I show affection. That and sucking your dick.”</p><p>That gets a laugh out of Scott, and Stiles smiles at him, finally looking again. If he can still make Scott smile, can still make Scott laugh, it’s gonna be okay.</p><p>There’s silence again and Stiles gets the impression that Scott is waiting for him. Waiting for him to have some emotional maturity to admit some of his gross feelings out loud. He looks away from Scott again.</p><p>“You’d be a really great dad and I want to be that person with you. You, uh, you make me feel like I wouldn’t fuck it up as bad.”</p><p>“I don’t think you’d fuck it up at all,” Scott says softly.</p><p>There’s a bitter laugh bubbling in Stiles’s throat and he tries to swallow it down. Coughs instead. He tries to focus on the feeling of Scott rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “I love my dad, I really do, and he did the best he could—with my mom dying and me being me. This isn’t a reflection on his parenting skills, I just want to, uh, to be clear on that.” He pauses and takes a breath, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. “But there were times where I felt like I was growing up without a mom or a dad, and I don’t think I know <em>how</em> to be a parent because of that. I have ADHD and anxiety and I’m borderline, and so the thought of having kids was just…. Just a thought I never had. Because I don’t want to pass any of that to them.”</p><p>His throat is beginning to feel tight. He squeezes the hand that’s not holding Scott’s into a tight fist. “But you, uh,” he starts, stopping to glance at Scott again. It’s too quick for him to really absorb Scott’s face. “You make me feel like, like—like it wouldn’t be so bad.”</p><p>Scott’s silent for a moment and Stiles just waits. They’re in this moment now, and Stiles needs this conversation to happen in its entirety because being here isn’t exactly fun for him.</p><p>“Stiles, do <em>you</em> want kids?” Scott eventually asks. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself you do just because you know I want kids. I knew you didn’t want kids when we were dating and I knew you didn’t want kids when we got married. It’s not a dealbreaker for me, you know that, right?”</p><p>Stiles nods and bites the inside of his cheek again.</p><p>Scott breathes out; it’s not exactly a sigh. “It’s important to me that you know that kids aren’t a dealbreaker,” he says emphatically. He uses his other hand to lightly touch Stiles’s chin, not using any force at all to turn Stiles’s head to look at him. “I love you,” he says, so very seriously. “I love you, kids or no kids. I just want you.”</p><p>Stiles bites the inside of his cheek harder. His chest is tight and his throat is tight, and he’s fucking twenty-seven years old; he’s twenty-seven years old and he’s married to his best friend, and this shouldn’t make him want to cry. But it does, and the intensity in Scott’s gaze and the way he’s now moved his hand to cup Stiles’s cheek is not helping.</p><p>“That is deeper emotionally than I wanted to go,” he says.</p><p>Scott smiles; his eyes soften. “I know. But that’s too bad because you know who you married.”</p><p>Stiles thinks about breaking eye contact with Scott, but eventually decides against it. He wants to watch Scott as he says this, choosing his words carefully. “Kids aren’t a dealbreaker for me, either. Before— Before I refused to have any. And then it became, ‘Well, we can have kids if Scott wants kids,’ because what you want matters, too. And I want what you want.” He pauses, thinking it through. “And the, uh, the more that time goes on, the more I’m thinking about it. If you were anyone else, I think my answer would still be no. But I want kids with you.”</p><p>Scott doesn’t say anything, his eyes flitting back and forth between Stiles’s.</p><p>“I think I can do it. I-I want kids, Scott.”</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>And Stiles doesn’t have to think about it anymore. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m sure. I want kids.”</p><p>Scott’s face breaks out into the biggest smile, bright and happy. He uses the hand already holding Stiles’s face to keep him still as he surges forward to kiss him. Stiles laughs against his lips, squeezing Scott’s hand. His other hand comes to rest on the junction between Scott’s neck and shoulder as Scott pulls away. He’s still smiling.</p><p>“You’re really sure about this?”</p><p>Stiles laughs. His chest feels lighter. “I’m really sure. The only thing I’ve ever been more sure about is marrying you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Scott says, nodding. “Okay. Then. We. We need.” He suddenly stands up, pulling himself away from Stiles, and almost begins to pace. “We need to decide how, like surrogacy or adoption or—”</p><p>“Scott,” Stiles says, laughing. “We don’t have to decide tonight. It’s late.”</p><p>“It’s not even eleven yet,” Scott parrots back to him. Stiles grins.</p><p>This feels good, he decides. It feels right. He’s not hiding or pushing down any panic about his decision; he’s sure that that will come later, but that’ll be about the actual parenting. There are no feelings of regret. He wants this. He wants this with Scott, with his husband.</p><p>Stiles stands up from the couch, stretching as he does so. He moves to stand in front of Scott to stop his pacing, grabbing both of his hands. “Let’s look into it tomorrow, okay?” Stiles says. Scott looks like he’s about to open his mouth, maybe to refute, so Stiles talks over him. “Scott, we just made a big, life-changing decision that not only requires sleep before we can act on it, but also—” He stops, leaning in close. “But also requires celebration,” he murmurs.</p><p>Scott’s lips twitch. “Did you tell me you wanted kids so you could get laid tonight?”</p><p>Stiles rolls his eyes. “It sounds so less romantic when you say it like that.”</p><p>“It didn’t sound romantic to begin with.”</p><p>“Don’t insult my moves, Scotty, they’ve always worked on you!”</p><p>They both laugh at that, and Scott’s gaze is soft when he answers, “Yeah, they have.” He leans his forehead against Stiles’s. “I love you, kids or no kids, but I’m really happy we’re doing this.”</p><p>Stiles swallows, closing his eyes, enjoying the closeness of his husband. “Me, too.” He presses forward for a quick kiss, squeezing Scott’s hands as he does so. “Now. Take me to bed, dude.”</p><p>Scott groans and laughs, leaning away from him. “Do not call me ‘dude’ when we’re about to have sex, Stiles!”</p><p>Stiles makes no promises, just tugs Scott with him as he walks backward toward the stairs and their bedroom. Besides, Scott should know better by now; it’s how Stiles shows affection.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from arizona by kevin mchale. come find me on tumblr @ <a href="https://stilesscott.tumblr.com/">stilesscott</a> where i'm still crying over sciles lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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